


Let's play together

by ainsivalemonde



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 14:54:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4750478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ainsivalemonde/pseuds/ainsivalemonde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Appearances tricked us most of the time.<br/>A journey in Prague is the occasion for James to question his way to see things.</p><p> </p><p>It's not a good summary but I can't develop without saying anything important.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's play together

Let’s play together…

 

The place was going on. Vincent van Gogh was now painting his famous Sunflowers. A field of sunflowers painted on a board was at the back of the stage.  
James took a look at the audience. Tonight, the State Opera of Prague was full of CEO, politicians, etc. Sure, the play could not be considerate as worthy as an opera like Tosca, yet the audience had gathered in this theatre to give a chance to the young stage director, Bernein Stuttgich.

However, during the play, James could have seen people standing up and getting out of the room. So then, either the opera was not to their taste, either they had better to do.  
The play ended and the curtains fell. The audience stood up to clap. Suddenly, someone caught his eyes in the first row. Eve? Why was she there? He looked at the woman, walking out to go to the hallway. James followed her, trying not to lose her in the crowd. His eyes widened. Eve was aiming at him with a Walther. The moves were slow around James. Nobody seemed to notice the armed woman. James heard the pulled trigger, saw the bullet arrived.

***

James opened his eyes, sitting up on his bed. His sheets were a mess and one of his pillows was on the floor. Another nightmare. He sighed. St Vitus’s bells rang. It was 09:00. James fell back on his bed. It was time to get up then.

James has been in Prague for the last two weeks and has got used to go to a tea room to have breakfast. Most of the time, he was going to a French tea shop: Le Poney Au Pré Verdoyant. He loved the place which had a certain old-fashioned style because of its interior decoration. It was clearly Art Nouveau. Everything was made to remind the artistic movement: the wooden tables, the curves used to treat the lines like bannisters, and the posters. “Mucha is the best” could have been the motto of the place.

James took a bit of his apple pie and observed the moving crowd outside. The tea room was in Old Town Square, just in front of a kind of medieval market. It was always crowded. The agent swallowed his tea, trying to hide the tense in his body. He had the weird impression to be watched. It was not the first time, and it only worsened with the tiredness due to his nightmares. He sighed, trying to relax. There was nobody in the tea room, so if he was truly observed, it could only come from the outside… well, whether anybody was truly keeping an eye on him. James paid and walked out. He headed for the medieval market, his camera around his neck.

***

He loved to play tourist, most peculiarly when he was in beautiful places like Prague. For now, he was interested by the city’s market. Honestly, it was looking like any other Christmas markets, settled in big cities in Europe. Yet, it was lovely and nobody could spit on a glass of hot wine.

He followed the man through the different stands. The man was looking at everything: objects to bring back home, local food… But the most important thing was the habit the man had developed to take photos of anything. Intelligent bastard…

Photography was an art which could do what the others were incapable to do: to capture History, to capture details even a trained eye could not see at first sight. The game promised to be fun then. He wondered about the last time they had a truly threatening opponent like him. A long time ago.  
Would he be daring enough to cross the path of the man? Sure, he was!

He moved and for a few seconds, he thought the man would finally SEE him, but no. he smiled again. Good things happen to those who wait.

***

It was 20:00 when James decided to rest a moment. He had walked a good part of the day through the streets of Prague, enjoying the sights, taking photos… and now, it was time to settle a moment.

James was sitting on a bench, on one of the bridges of the city, located on the Vitana River. From here, he had a beautiful sight of the Moon reflecting on the River. The water seemed to be black. The rays of light looked like silver powder falling on the roofs, the streets.

He smirked. He should seriously think about reconversion and become a poet. With such degree of musicality in his words, he could easily be the new William Blake! Such a good future for English literature!

He winded on his photos and frowned. Something had caught his eyes. The photo has been taken much earlier in the day, when he was near St Vitus. He remembered the moment: he was taking a picture of the St George and the Dragon Statue. But he was not just beside the sight, he was much farther, on the place, in front of the Cathedral.  
However, if he was zooming on the individual he could distinguish behind the statue, he could see the man was taking photos too. And… he was strangely looking at him.

Well, it was a strange thing to say that an individual, who was most probably another tourist, was photographing you. It was egoistical at first sight, yet James was a trained agent and some instincts could not be simply resting on a mere ego to satisfy. He was perplexed.  
Because, if the man was truly watching and following him, it could mean...

James sat up against the back of his bench. After two weeks of random researches, could he have finally found something?  
James looked at the photo again. He had to go back to this place. Definitely.

***

The noise of the turning around needle, on the clock, was echoing in the dark room.

“So?”

“He took the bait.”

“Good. He is definitely not the very cautions man we used to know anymore, neither is he the one we worked with.”

The man took the glass of wine his henchman held him out. He took a sip and held the glass at the level of his eyes. A ray of light was enlightening the liquid. He smiled.

“But I’m not surprised. He has always loved dangerous but exciting things. I guess his very delicate tastes will lose him again.”

He put the glass of wine on the table near him and crossed his hands behind his back. From his position, he could see all the place in front of St Vitus.

“Well, now that we trapped the fish, let’s see how he will handle this situation; may the Gods be with him, it could become awfully heart-breaking much sooner than he thought.”  
A thin shadow was moving near the walls. The man smiled. Yes, he may have found his downfall this time.

***

James had seen the Cathedral abroad daylight, but it was nothing compared to the sight it was offering under the sunset’s lights. The Roman Gothic Cathedral was illuminated by the Sun, appearing all golden.

James took the time to appreciate the sight, while he was waiting the streets to be dark enough to move without to be seen.  
Around 21:30, he moved from his observation point and headed to the cathedral. Once inside, he closed the massive wooden doors as silently as it was possible. James walked in the middle of the rows of benches and chairs. He looked around; the church was rather dark. Only a few lamps and candles were there to enlighten the place.

James finally decided to explore the nave. Here, the stained –glass was show cast by the golden stripes accentuating the intersections of ribs. It was the chore of the building, so if he had to find something, it would be here. He got closer of the table the priest uses. He arched an eyebrow: something was sparkling on the table. He was touching it when:

“O! You’re a late visitor young man!”

James turned around to face an old lady. He smiled:

“Well, I guess, I needed to be alone to… deal with some thoughts.”

She smiled back.

“Then do not waste your time thinking too much young man. The obvious can’t be perceived anymore, because of all the shadows which darken our minds.”

He got closer to her. The old lady took a seat, on the first row. James followed and imitated her.

“Some people say only lost souls come at St Vitus. Are you lost young man?”

James remained silent. Lost? More than ever.

“Well… It’s not as if I could claim I have the clearer mind in the world. I have some troubles about things I can’t deal with.”

She smiled, encouraging him to go on. James did not know what to say. He did not know her, yet it was very easy to speak with that lady.

“There is someone...I have problems to forget. I should not think on this person. But I can’t help myself thinking this person understood me more than anybody has ever done. And I’m furious because this person destroyed a lot of things; nonetheless I cling to… this person. Whatever, I can’t change anything between us anymore.”

The granny cocked her head, leaning her cheek in her palm.

“May I tell you a story young man? A few decades ago, a just married lady was taken stealing silverware manufacturing during a party. Her maid was distracting the butler’s attention. At first sight it was, for sure, a dishonourable event for her, but, honestly, why would she have cared about manufacturing when she was wealthy enough? No, what she truly wanted was the key of the butler’s room. It’s quite a pitiful story in fact. 

The young lady knew the butler who had served in her house when she was a teenager. He promised her a lot of things, for her who felt unloved. Yet, he lied to her. He never sent her any letters, once he was gone. He told her he had to leave in order to improve his life and to come back for her. She sent him letters he never answered. So when she recognized the man, years later, she only wanted to take back what symbolised her broken heart. She died of sorrow.

See young man, it was only an illusion. She wanted everybody to believe she was stealing, only to have something else. So maybe, are you only thinking too much and when you say you’re angry, it may be something else which involved to care enough to feel ire.

Perhaps this person only wanted you to see the truth, even if she did not do it the right way. She could only try and do her best. Most peculiarly if you were blinded by people wanted you to see how they were seeing things, and not how you should have seen them.”

James blinked:  
“Things which are not seen like they should be seen but only like the others want us to see them…”

He got it: right from the start, he was all wrong. He was not looking the right way, not at the right place. James discretely touched the ring he put in his pocket a moment ago. It was so simple, he should have understood by himself! Then he remembered he was not alone. He was going to frankly thank the lady when he realised he was alone… His eyes widened. He tried to control his breathing and walked out… quickly.

A few streets before his own, he stopped and took the ring he had taken in his hand. It was a silver one, with an octopus graved. The symbol of SPECTRE. He has been tricked. So he had to start again, with good eyes this time.

***

When he arrived in front of the door of his flat, he felt something was off. James sighed and silently opened the door. He did not turn on the lights and crossed the rooms. He was going to go past the bathroom when he saw a ray of light escaping from the thin opening of the door. He could hear the flowing water of the Italian shower.  
James held his breath, his gun out and slowly took the door’s button in his left hand. He silently came in, pointing his weapon on the shower located in the back of the room. His heart skipped a beat.

In HIS bathroom! In HIS Shower was standing Raoul Silva! The man was busy trying to rinse all the shampoo in his hair.  
The room was full of water vapour; still the glass walls of the shower let exposed the Spaniard’s wounded back.

« Mierda! »

James sighed loudly, as if he was strongly annoyed. Then, he could understand his impression to be followed. Suddenly, Silva turned off the golden taps of the shower and faced James.

« Stop staring. Either you help me with this mess, either you get out. »

And without more ceremonial, Silva went back to his activity.

James took his gun down, looking on the white-marbled floor: Silva had thrown his clothes on the floor, without caring. He turned his head to look at the silver taps on his left: they were full of products to wash wounds and of blooded cottons.  
He sighed and got out of the bathroom. It was going to be a long night.

***

James waited half an hour on the couch of his living-room. Finally, Silva appeared, freshly washed and dressed. With no more ceremonial than in the bathroom, he sat next to James. The British agent looked at him, impassive, wanting answers.

« We do share the very same hobby in the end, my dear James. »

James stayed silent, then:  
« Give me a good reason not to kill you, now, with my bare hands. »

Silva putted:  
« You are of no fun James! »

James rose an eyebrow:  
« So? »

Silva elbowed to the back of the couch, crossing his legs, sticking his side to the couch:  
« A little bird told me you were going to court a very dangerous mistress, James. »

James decided to imitate Silva’s posture:

« It does not explain why you’re alive, for what I’m even not surprised, why you’re here; and as I said, why I should keep listening. And why were you following me?»

Silva stood up and went behind James, who tensed when he felt Silva’s hands on his shoulders:  
« You need to relax more often James. »

He sighed once more, started massaging James’s shoulders.  
« I survived because you missed one of my henchmen. Good point for him. »

« You should give him an increase. »  
The Spaniard could feel the agent slowly relaxing under his skilled hands.

« I will think about it. By the way James, you send knives like you shoot: poorly. It was a bitch to heal. It keeps bleeding sometimes. »

James smirked.  
« I guess I should say « I’m sorry »… And you are here for? »

« Good things happen to those who wait James. I was in France, healing, thinking on my new life, on my absence of purpose when I heard Spectre was... How to say it? »

Raoul stopped massaging James’s shoulders to go to the back of his neck:  
« Well, let’s say Spectre is active because a charming bastard is putting his nose where he should not. So when you accuse me of following you, everywhere. Nop! It is not me… Even if being behind you would not be a problem. »

« So you are here to warn me? To kill me? »

« You’re utterly tensed here, it’s awful. I had some problems I would like to solve definitely with Spectre. Most peculiarly since they know I’m alive and they seem willing to destroying me now that they found a mean to do so. So I generously offer you my help and my skills… With some counterparts, of course. »

James frowned:  
« Which are? And which mean are you talking about? »

Silva turned around James to go to sit on the little table in front of James. He slowly slid his hands on James’s thighs.  
« I want to burn them to the ground. That would be a good beginning. »

« The meaning of the plural then? »

Silva’s smile widened. He bent down, his mouth blowing inside James’s ear, his hands squeezing a little more the muscular thighs:  
« Well, since we are to misbehave together… Should we do this properly? Sure Mallory would not appreciate. »

James turned his head, now nose to nose with his nemesis and said, in a whisper:  
« Why should I do that? And who said I was interested? Mm? »

One of Silva’s hand brushed James’s chest, his neck to go to stroke his hair.  
« Would you let me, let anyone touch you this way then? Moreover, they see you as my weak point. And they won’t hesitate to harm you to hit me. In this game, I’m afraid both of us are trapped Mr Bond. Or we deal with it together, or it is our end. So? »

James breathed out, unconsciously leaning on Silva’s hand:  
« An old lady told me I thought too much. That I was not mad at you, but it was something else. »

Silva nodded:  
« Such a wise one. I hope she would baby-sit you when I’m not keeping an eye on you. You are between good hands here. »

James leant his forehead on Silva’s:  
« My quartermaster still has spots, I dream Eve kills me and Mallory is a jerk. »

« Oh! Such great team! »

James grinned:  
« It seems, yes. »

Silva’s thumb started rubbing James’s cheek. Both men were grinning to each other. Some seconds later, Silva was hungrily ravishing James’s mouth. He sat on the British agent’s laps, while James was getting me closer, losing his hands in the Spaniard’s hair. They finally broke the kiss, gasping for air:

« So I do have good points, no? »

James put his head on Silva’s chest while the older man was stoking his hair. He was listening to his heart.  
« Should we start misbehaving now? »

Silva chortled:  
« Dear, I thought you would never ask! »  
And then, the Spaniard pushed James to lie him down on the couch.

***

James slept more than well. He felt safe against Raoul’s chest. Plus, the man seemed to be the cuddling kind.  
He felt the Spaniard tighten his arms around his waist:  
“James?”

James turned around to face him:  
“They won’t separate us… Never.”

He caressed his cheeck:  
“May they try Raoul, I will be Death. They won’t take anything more away from you.”

Silva smiled, erasing the worry look on his face.  
“So it’s our last chess play Mr Bond. Let’s make it the greatest of our careers.”

And he rolled over James. 

***

A man was sitting at a desk. He was looking at a photo and at an article.  
The photo, in front of him, was showing two blond men from behind. They were facing a burning down huge estate.  
On his left, the article announced the death of a CEO just after a source on the internet revealed relevant information about the traffics he was participating to.  
On his right, the man had a chess board.

“So what will be your next move? I’m waiting.”

A knock at the door got him out of his thoughts:  
‘Come in”

His henchman entered:  
“They are here. Should we begin?”

He nodded. The man got out.  
He stood up.  
“Good luck Gentlemen. Let’s see who end up on the top.”


End file.
